To Love a Genius
by MsCatPlainer
Summary: To their benefit, they pioneered this new type of cross-dimensional relationship. JimmyTimmy; On Hiatus
1. One: Break

**Disclaimer: I do not own characters from Jimmy Neutron or The Fairly OddParents.**

**This was originally for the 100 themes challenge...now it's just writing prompts people send me (or ones I get from OTP prompts.) To send me a JimmyTimmy writing prompt, go to my tumblr, which is CatTasticLuv. **

**In this series, Jimmy and Timmy's relationship will range from _friends, close to romance_ to _boyfriends (and maybe husbands!)_ Additionally, their ages may change. I will leave a notification at the top in the author's note to inform everyone.**

**Warning: All these little one shots are _self-edited. _  
**

_**To Love a Genius**_

**Written By,**

_**MsCatPlainer/CatTasticLuv**_

-oOo-

_**Relationship:**_** Friends, hints of romance if you squint.**

_**Age:**_** Teenagers (Jimmy: 16, Timmy: 15)**

_**One: **_**Break**

-oOo-

"No, no, turn the screwdriver _clockwise_ 40°, not counterclockwise."

"Shut up, would ya?" Timmy muttered as he fumbled to hold onto the tool with inexperienced hands. "I know how to turn a screw!"

"I don't suppose it has come to your attention that we've been doing this for an hour now." He was getting tired of _instructing_ and not _doing_.

"I don't suppose is has come to your attention that I'm _trying_?" He snarked back at Jimmy; the boy in question pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

Ever since his _Robo-Walker_ tipped over from a blow to the leg (the result of one of Calamitous' schemes), his left arm has been in a cast. It was his dominant hand (and it was the first bone breakage he ever went through and never again did he want it to happen again.) It was a back step into completing several projects - many of which he had to put away for the time being - but he needed to fix the _Robo-Walker._

_'Luckily'_, Timmy was there to help make the corrections bodily as he devised calculations in his mind.

Unluckily, Timmy was of no help whatsoever. He was unable to basically tighten a jolt, which brought about a long hour of monotonous directions.

"I expect _'trying'_ to be in the initial ten minutes of doing this. For an hour to pass with little progression, you either have a brain issue or are in need of a hearing aide." Jimmy bit his tongue to fend off the impulsive afterthought to say, "_I think it's a little bit of both."_

"I'm doing it just fine!" Timmy protested. Button head screws were tricky little bastards; more than once he slipped and had to reinsert the tip into the hexagon.

Jimmy huffed, frustrated. He should've figured his cross-dimensional friend lacked the aptitudes to do this. Yet, the prospect of someone having this much of a hard time to achieve a facile task was horrendous! "You need to turn it the right way or else the _Robo-Walker_ won't work!"

Timmy's hold on the screwdriver became excruciatingly tight. His knuckles turning a powdery white from the pressure. "I am turning it the right way!"

"You turn it the wrong way or several degrees off 40°!" Foreseeing no advancement in the argument, Jimmy reached his left hand out to grab the screwdriver. "Let me do it; clearly this a demeaning assignment for you."

That pull roused his impulse to yank back, however. "No way! I've got this, plus you're arm needs to heal!"

"I can endeavor in doing it right-handed," Jimmy insisted. "It's all a matter of mirroring the movements of my left hand; it can't be too hard."

"_Fine_"—Timmy let the other have the screwdriver—"go ahead and try if you want. Just remember, I'll be here when you _epically fail._"

"_Fine,_ and I'll remember your presence when I show _you_ how it's done." With a final glare sent to the teen, Jimmy flicked his eyes over to the piece of machinery before him. Tongue in cheek, Jimmy unadroitly shifted his hands on the handle, trying to get a comfortable grip; so far, there were none. In the one percent of people who were ambidextrous, he was not one of them. Yet, he didn't rule out the possibility of doing this (which Timmy fueled: he would not "_epically fail"_, as he said.) So with a strong determination, he brought the screwdriver and bolt together, and turned.

Or, he would've, but…focusing was _hard._

There was titillation on the back of his neck, like his body was conscious of Timmy lurking in the outreaches of his peripherals. He knew he was behind him: the measured shifts of impatient feet on the cement resounded in his ears. But no glances to the sides behold brown and pink, the latter of which was a common color on the other in attire.

The outcome to this distraction was a slip, and the screwdriver clambered to the ground noisily. Frozen and flustered, quickly he leaned down to fetch the tool, but Timmy's hand beat him to it.

Blue eyes locked; all air expelled from Jimmy's lungs and shocked, he jerked backwards.

Timmy gave a start at the sudden movement, and carefully he handed the genius back his screwdriver. The other teen was tense with gritted teeth in a sign of either anger or confusion; it could've been either or.

"Oh thank you _Timmy_," Timmy said, filling in the silence with a horrible mockery of Jimmy's voice. "Oh, you're welcome Jimmy! Whenever you need a hand."

"Too bad the brain behind the hand's actions cannot be of assistance." It was the first sign of humor that day from the genius (albeit insulting), but it made Timmy crack a grin.

"He talks!" He exclaimed.

Jimmy rolled his eyes. The fluttering in his chest faded out, but what lingered was warmth. A warmth that put his emotions on level ground with Timmy's. "So what, aren't you going to say something about my _'epic failure'_?"

"Oh yeah! Thank you for reminding me."

Sighing deeply, Jimmy leaned back into his chair, trying to ignore the comments the other made, and gestured to the machinery in front of him. The screwdriver was given the victory-dancing Timmy. "Okay, okay, I get it. I couldn't do it. Let's just... do this again, and this time, use your head."

Timmy smiled over at the genius. "No promises."

-oOo-

**I would like to thank my good friend, Amber for helping me with some of the dialogue. Some of the words used in this were from a role play. I was Jimmy and she was Timmy. **


	2. Two: Change of Dinner Plans

**Writing Prompt:** _Imagine your OTP deciding on where to go out to dinner, and none of them have the same tastes._

**Pairing:**_ JimmyTimmy_

**Ages: **_Jimmy: 19, Timmy: 18_

**Warning: **Timmy being a manipulative little shit and sexual undertones (I'm not even sorry.) Also, this is _self-edited._

**-Change of Dinner Plans-**

**-oOo-**

"_Le Gourmet_…how does that sound?"

Timmy groaned, and put his seat up to face Jimmy better. "French equals _frog legs_."

"You don't have to order it," Jimmy pointed out with a roll of his eyes. Dead frogs were a fear of Timmy's that he didn't understand, and didn't bother _to understand. _

"I know that…" Timmy crossed his arms "…but what if someone orders it? I do _not_ want to see it." Just the thought of deep fried frog legs gave him the shivers.

"Fine," Jimmy muttered. His blue eyes returned to scan the brochure in his hands; it contained a list of all the restaurants in the area.

They had made plans for a romantic weekend get-away, and so far they were failing at the _'romantic'_ part. On the first day at their destination, they were already having issues, one being the fact that they couldn't decide on where to go out. Jimmy was tempted to just drive to whatever restaurant he chose himself (forgoing Timmy's opinion since he was the passenger). There was also the option to throw his hands up in the air, say _"screw it",_ and go find a fast food place. At least the latter would be easier to choose from. But thanks to his genius, it was hard to forget the reason why they were here. They had what many called _romantic issues_. Except, in their case, their issues gravitated more towards the fact they weren't from the same universe. Between visiting each other's dimensions, Jimmy attending college, and Timmy's life as drop out working at _The Gilded Lilly_, there was little time made for _them_. It was after several near break ups that they decided to have a weekend vacation dedicated to their relationship.

Something caught Jimmy's attention. "_VG_, a video game themed bar and restaurant"—but—"no, not a choice."

The mention of '_video game'_ instantly caught Timmy's attention, however. "Did you just say they have a _video game themed restaurant?"_ He fell back in his seat, staring up at the visor with an ebullient look on his face. "Jim." Then comes the begging Jimmy expected from him; Timmy turned towards him with wide, stardust eyes. "Jim, dude, my _love…_" so he was using _that card_ to get what he wants "…we have t'go there. This is like, you know, one of those '_once in a lifetime opportunity'_ people talk about."

"Timmy, _sweetheart_," Jimmy said, mocking his boyfriend's sugarcoated voice. "I don't want to go there."

"What? Why not? There is nothing like this in Dimmsdale or Retroville. This is a _golden_ opportunity!"

"A golden opportunity that's not going anywhere," Jimmy refuted. Further examination of the brochure showed less-interesting choices, placing Le Gourmet, VG, and some Italian Restaurant (_Cissiono's_, it read) as the top three choices. Three choices that's closing times were at ten; it was nine now.

Timmy hanged onto what interested him. "C'mon, _seriously_. We can go to whatever restaurant you want tomorrow, but _please_." His eyes got significantly big and watery, a successful portrayal of the _'puppy dog' _look. "Please, let's go to VG, _please…_!" For extra effect, he batted his lashes.

Jimmy gritted his teeth, and only allowed a glance at that look before focusing determinedly on a picture in the brochure. That look would be the end of him one day. Timmy knew he had a hard time saying "no" to it still. It was sad to admit, but he was increasingly improving at the art of refusing whatever begs that look came with.

Timmy however was refining his skills as well just so he could get a _"yes"_ out of him. (A downside to dating an Aries: they were creative _and_ adaptive.)

"My answer is still no." Rotating his shoulders back, Jimmy cleared his throat, and pointed out the third – and last – option. "There's an Italian restaurant we can go to. I'm sure they don't have frog legs there."

"_Jimmy."_ Stepping its way up his arm were two fingers, mimicking a person's walk, before a whole hand smoothed its way down his chest. Jimmy's grip on the brochure became excruciatingly tight. "I want to go…" Timmy's voice was soft, seductive, and evidently made to manipulate. Jimmy's face warmed and his ear tingled even with that knowledge "…to VG."

"I said no." The argument was weak and had little support; Timmy knew that, and was resolute in making it fall.

"It will make me happy." Timmy leaned his head on Jimmy's shoulder. Peering up through his bangs, he added in a cute pout, completing the next stage in persuading Jimmy with the _'kicked puppy'_ look. Under the interior car light, it was the reflection of golden orbs in those shimmering blue irises that finally did it.

Defeated and dignity gone, Jimmy thumped his head on the top of the steering wheel. The brochure was dropped in his lap, and he knew without seeing that Timmy sported a triumphant grin. "Fine," he consented, and continued to slouch, even when he turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared, Timmy cheered, and Jimmy tried to fend off the urge to whack his boyfriend as he read off the address to VG.

Timmy stopped his cheers to eye Jimmy's frown. Still tickled pink by his boyfriend's agreement, he leaned over the center console and pecked the side of his mouth.

"Don't worry Jimmy," Timmy said, winking. "I'll make it up to you."

Ignoring the undercurrent of those words, but not able to fend off his blush, Jimmy muttered, "you better."

"Oh I will." Timmy leaned back into his seat as Jimmy took off. It was silent for only a moment when he added, "Just wait until desert."

Jimmy nearly slammed on the breaks.

**-oOo-**

**Remember: You can send me a JimmyTimmy writing prompt, a Nicktoons Unite…whatever. Right now since I don't have any, I'm using prompts others have made.**


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